A leaf in the wind, A deal with the devil
by NRGburst
Summary: "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." Tyler is on the run when he gets an unexpected visitor.
1. A leaf in the wind,a deal with the devil

He's used to the rhythm of travel now: get off the bus, ignore the touts, check out hostels, drop off his pack and then get his bearings. It's become as familiar to him as the routine of going to school was, of playing football. But he can't go even ten minutes without thinking of her and how much she would love this- seeing the history and natural wonders and the way people live here; meeting other travelers and interesting locals. He's reminded of her every time he sees someone with a thoroughly planned itinerary or carefully packed bag. But he keeps going.

This is what she wanted for him. And it's freaking cool, standing in the ruins of great civilizations and seeing half naked kids shriek with laughter as they throw themselves into the great lake that feeds them, rocks their homes and carries the sunburnt, picture snapping tourists by. But he wishes she could be here, judging –and loving- how beer is sometimes cheaper than water, charming her way into the groups in the common rooms, veto-ing the $2 bunks for a $10 room with an air conditioner they don't even need because what she really wants is to have sex.

But he keeps going, stays alert and aware. She's shielding them all from Klaus with the tenuous power of his obsession. And although he hates it, he won't cheapen that sacrifice by acting recklessly. He'll eventually lose interest; they'll eventually find a way to be together without losing anybody else. As long as he stays alive. As long as his trail is cold and impossible to follow, lost among the footprints of others. So he keeps going.

This hostel is like most of the others- eight bunk beds with worn but clean sheets, a single air conditioning unit for the entire room, and drying laundry hanging off every rung or pipe within reach. It's quiet and dark but he's betting it'll start filling up soonish as backpackers start filtering back in from markets and museums.

He puts his pack down next to the bunk labelled 4 and tries to decide what to do first- hit the hospital or check out the computers. The promise of broadband was what lured him in- it would be nice not to connect at 56k. And the big bowl of pho and tiny cup of super-strong, super-sweet coffee he'd had for lunch was filling enough. Getting blood can wait.

His thoughts skitter to a halt and his eyes widen when he smells vampire, and he spins and speeds over to slam her against the wall.

He's been ready for this, rehearsed scenarios; prepared himself for the kill.

But he blinks and falters when he sees her face.

"Elena?"

Her lips curve into a smug smile and she gives him a slow once-over, not seeming to care about the hand he has closed around her throat, or that she's dangling a foot off the ground. He inhales shakily and frowns.

"You're- Katherine."

"And you're stronger than your uncle was."

He narrows his eyes and pants, nerves still humming with adrenaline.

"What do you want?"

"I've always liked Vietnam. The baguettes and coffee here were absolute perfection when the French were in charge. Have you tried them first thing in the morning with thinly sliced pork sausage? Delicious." He continues glaring and she rolls her eyes and sighs. "No need to be boring. Isn't it obvious? I want your help."

"And why the hell would I help you? You forced me to trigger the curse. You killed Caroline."

She raises her brows and purses her lips, nonplussed. "I thought Klaus would agree to a bargain. He killed my whole family for refusing to be his sacrifice, you know. And having him hunt me for the next five hundred years got rather... tedious. Nothing personal, Tyler. I only wanted my freedom from him. Surely you, more than anyone, can understand that." She pauses and smiles when he puts her down and steps back warily.

It's weird looking at her as she brushes herself off- she looks just like Elena, but in sexy skintight jeans and a tank top, with toenails the color of rubies peeking out of her strappy sandals. Even the way she stands is different, like an adder coiled to strike.

She tosses her hair and walks over to the only chair in the room, casually shoving somebody's laundry onto the ground before seating herself. "Tip from a pro: use an IP address blocker if you're going to stalk Caroline's blog. Finding the only international ping was child's play. Being sloppy will get you killed."

That takes him aback. "What, you're a hacker?"

"I pick up the skills I need to survive. And I make the right kind of friends. Geeks love doing favors for pretty girls. Or… for Klaus under compulsion. He tends to favor old school methods of tracking, but he has the occasional modern insight. Stay one step ahead or he'll be ripping your heart out in the hopes that she won't stay in love with a corpse."

He mulls that advice over but he knows what she's trying to do. "Why do you need me?"

"Hybrids are few and far between, you know. And I might just know a witch or three who say they can make our Original hybrid problem go away… _if _you'll work with us. Come on, Tyler. Wouldn't it be nice to free Caroline from his attention?"

His face tightens and his eyes lock with hers. They'd been literally inches from taking down Klaus the last time she was in Mystic Falls. If Stefan hadn't intervened…

"It'll preserve the bloodline?"

She rolls her eyes. "Would I risk it otherwise? Your precious Caroline will be fine."

He nods and considers before lifting a brow. "What's the catch?"

She studies him and inhales before raising her eyebrows and shrugging. "You could die."

"Is that all?"

She laughs. "God, you're such a _martyr_. What does Caroline think of your tragic hero complex?"

"That's your whole pitch?"

She tilts her head, looking thoughtful. "There's a chance you won't die."

He scoffs. "Like you care."

Something that looks like regret flickers across her face before she gets up and strides to the door. "Your uncle loved me once. Maybe that means something to me."

He says nothing. He doesn't trust a word she says but he can't help but be tempted.

When she turns her face is a mask again- cold, calculating, confident. "I'll give you some time to think about it. Enjoy Saigon. She has a long history of fighting oppression as well."

And with that parting shot, she's gone.

* * *

**A.N.: Vietnam was colonialized by the French from 1883-1954. Saigon is now officially known as Ho Chi Minh City. Kudos if you can figure out where else Tyler has travelled. ;)**


	2. A link in the chain, a cat in the cradle

**A link in the chain, a cat in the cradle**

**A/N: Just a warning about anti-American political commentary on the Vietnam war in this chapter.**

* * *

She doesn't show up for the next few days. So he listens to debates over about which pagodas are worth the visit in the common room; checks out the art museum with a couple fellow backpackers; marvels at how it's possible for a 100 cc motorbike to transport a family of six here and enjoys the food at street stalls. It's nice not to have to worry about getting sick, but he sticks to the busiest stands anyway- he figures the quick turnover means the food can't have been sitting too long and it's got to taste pretty good if the locals are lining up. But he sits with his back against a wall, scents the wind and scans the crowd more often and he's careful to use an IP blocker when he gets online. And all the while he weighs the pros and cons.

Katherine is a cold-hearted killer and he can't trust her not to bail if it all goes south. But at least she doesn't bullshit about her number one or the risks. And she's good at planning stuff like this; she's always holding a handful of trump cards.

Still, she freaking killed Caroline, set them up- and what the hell was that crap about Mason supposed to mean?

He wishes he could talk to Caroline, get her perspective. But everybody knows that she is the one person he would give his right arm to talk to. Calling her would give away his location; make all the care he took to cover his trail a waste. He's betting the instant Katherine's name crossed his lips her answer would be, "um, NO," anyway.

So he's got his answer ready when Katherine makes her move. He turns to her warily when she sidles up next to him at the War Remnants museum.

She ignores him and studies the My Lai massacre display, frowning at the photos of piles of corpses- mostly half-naked women and children. "Tragic, isn't it? The French controlled them for seventy years before the Vietnamese won independence. And they were still sorting themselves out when America sank its claws in, all in the name of suppressing _an idea_."

"I can read the captions myself."

"But will the lesson be as clear? Just look at what the big bad bully can do."

He looks away and shakes his head before he answers. "How about we look at how many people died fighting? Did you see those guillotines back there? The tiger cages?"

"There are always casualties in war. It's whether the end result is worth the price."

"That's- pretty cold."

She eyes him and shrugs. "I disagree- I admire their tenacity despite the odds. America had the equipment, the allies, the brute strength. Whereas the Vietnamese were starving and their weapons outdated. But they knew their land and their people- and better, they knew _how_ to use them. _The underdog won the war_. Don't you find that inspiring?"

She tilts her head in the direction of a young Vietnamese couple, and he looks over.

"Aren't they adorable? Must be nice to live in a world where your biggest problem is that your boyfriend doesn't want to pose for a picture."

He doesn't understand their words, but the girl's cajoling tone as she aims the camera and her boyfriend's half-hearted protests are painfully familiar. And suddenly his eyes sting and his chest aches so badly that he can't stand it. So he turns away and starts walking toward the exit.

"I know what you're trying to do."

"And you also know I'm your only shot at ever going home to her."

He stops and whirls to face her. "We make a move, and there's no telling what he'll do! I didn't consider the consequences last time, _and everybody paid." _

Aware the other visitors are starting to stare, he takes a breath, moves to the side and forces himself to speak more evenly. "He's going to get bored eventually. She just has to… play along until he does. It's safer this way."

She arches a brow. "Really? What if he stabs her through the heart the next time?"

His mouth falls open and he scrambles for a second. "How did you…?"

"Well, I'm assuming it wasn't _you_ that left the big, bloody hole in her tank top."

"…You were watching us?"

She gives him an exasperated look. "I have people watching _Klaus_. Sometimes I wonder how you goody two shoes survive at all. I'd have moved out of town ages ago."

He sighs. It's not like he hasn't had the same thought over the last couple of years. "It's our hometown. People we've known all our lives are there," he says quietly, and she tilts her head and looks him square in the eye.

"Violence tends to escalate towards victims. What is she, eighteen? Klaus hates being denied."

He can't argue with that. And he can see by the flash of triumph in her eyes that she knows she's won.

"…Fine. I'm in."

Her smile of satisfaction freezes when he continues.

"One condition."

Her eyes narrow and she tilts her head.

"Your…people… get me in touch with Caroline too."

She rolls her eyes. "Aren't her inane little blog updates enough?"

"I don't want to know about cheerleading or prom committee. I want to know if anything's wrong; get her a real message. They're in Mystic Falls anyway, right? Not going to tax your resources."

He doesn't know how long they stand there, neither willing to look away as tourists mill past. Finally, she sighs, glowering.

"Fine. We have a deal, little Lockwood. Don't make me regret it."

He gives her a look. "Somehow, I don't think it's going to be you with the regrets."

She raises her brows, smirks and struts into the crowd.

"Airport. Tomorrow at three. Bring a winter coat."

* * *

A/N: The My Lai massacre and its revelation to the American people was one of the pivotal events that put America on the path to losing the Vietnam war. The populace just could not support the aggressive (and expensive) foreign policy to stamp out Communism when it became clear that even babies were being killed.


	3. A bird in a cage, a slant on the subject

**A bird in a cage, a slant on the subject**

She tries to keep busy. Blood bag runs, prom dress shopping, choreographing cheer routines, making casseroles- these are things she can accomplish. There's something soothing about chopping innocent vegetables into bite-sized pieces and stocking her "special drawer" in the fridge; syncing stunts and making sure their team has the routines down pat; systematically eliminating dress choices and hair styles. And on the surface, everything is fine- the house is impeccable; her college and scholarship applications have all been sent; her extracurriculars are all proceeding on schedule.

But she can't help thinking of Tyler constantly. This wasn't how it was supposed to go- this isn't what it's like in movies when young couples are in love. There's a giant hole in her life where he's supposed to be and she can't get used to the radio silence, to the not knowing. And it's not only worrying about him and heartbreak over being torn apart- she just doesn't have anybody here to open up to. Her mom would just get hurt or worse trying to be Sheriff and take charge of the situation, and Stefan's focused on Elena. And now there's no way to keep everything from spiralling out of control- Katherine came out of nowhere and grabbed the Cure, Silas killed Jeremy and is lurking out there somewhere, everyone keeps listening to Damon and that evil hag Rebekah, Elena and Bonnie are acting crazy and none of them are talking at all anymore.

She can't list or manage their way out of this, plot any sort of strategy except to hope it all blows over; that everybody just comes to their senses and stops fighting.

So she curls up on her side of the bed and texts her speeches to Tyler's number, ignoring the error messages she gets back. She just needs to pretend he's listening, and hope that someday they can laugh about the craziness in retrospect.

They have forever. They just have to find a way.

For the millionth time she wishes she could have gone with him; that Klaus could have let them both slip away.

Instead she's here letting him stalk and sniff at her because every minute he's here means another minute Tyler gets on his head start, another minute nobody else dies. They killed Kol, trapped Klaus and plotted to Cure and then kill him. He's showing his forgiveness and compassion as long as she behaves. So she can't fail, she can't flinch; she's got to be the perfect Miss Mystic version of herself.

She hates how she was so smug about being his obsession. Now she finally gets why Elena switched it all off, why she kept trying to send Jeremy away.

Being the One Special Girl is like walking a tightrope. One slip and it might all end, not just for her but for everybody.

And it's so exhausting now that she doesn't have anybody to lean on anymore.

* * *

He's already having second thoughts- Katherine makes him uncomfortable. She's waiting outside the bank at the airport and he doesn't bother to ask how she found him. He just sighs, adjusts the weight of his pack and trudges up to the bench where she's sitting, legs crossed. She smells annoyed, and her foot is bobbing up and down in an antsy way.

"I thought you were _trying_ not to get caught."

"Figured I'd need cash and the account's under a fake name. He can't track what he doesn't know about."

"Betting on him _not_ finding anything tied to you is foolhardy. You're a vampire, Tyler. Take what you need from your prey and then erase the evidence. The best targets are older- they've had more time to save up. Not quite as tasty though," she adds, wrinkling her nose.

He gives her a disgusted look. "I'm not stealing people's money."

She gives him a derisive smirk before slinging her leather bag over her shoulder. "Judgey, judgey. Don't you know how the Lockwoods got so rich? I'll give you a clue- most Founding families doubled their land holdings in 1864 after the vampires were all entombed."

"What?"

"And you think your trust fund dividends don't come from corporations with sweatshops and factories that pay slave wages? Don't be so naïve."

"…Did Mason…?" he starts, surprised, before stopping and shaking his head. "…Look, I'm just trying to do what's right."

She tilts her head and smiles. "And _I'm_ just pointing out that there are almost no "right" choices."

"…Fine. But I'm not going to take money from little old ladies when I've got my own."

She stands up and steps into his personal space so he has to take a step back. "You're immortal, Tyler. You think your trust fund will last forever? Vampires have been doing this for centuries. In fact, the Mikaelsons take a certain pride in stealing from royalty."

He makes a face when he hears that, but he gives her a look and explains. "I'm not living it up- my mom taught me how to manage money, okay? And maybe she didn't think about the ethics or whatever, but I guess I can."

"Being a stick in the mud can be fatal, you know. Things tend to _snap _under pressure," she snarls.

He gives her a cocky smile, meeting her eyes. "Well, you're only stuck with me until we get Klaus. And I won't need to visit another bank for a while, so hopefully this'll be quick. Where are we going, anyway?"

She exhales. "Canada. Easier to blend in and then get back across the border. Are you going to whine about morals again if I compel us into first class?"

He shrugs and looks down at her luggage. "Probably empty seats there anyway. You want a hand with these?"

That makes her smile despite herself. She tilts her head and gives him an appraising look, considering.

"You'll do, Lockwood."

* * *

A/N: Just wanted to say that this fic will probably end up AU, in case that isn't your cup of tea. And sorry, I can't seem to keep myself from making social commentary in my chaptered fics. :P


	4. A thaw in the chill, a meeting of mice

There's a certain comfort in seeing everything written in English and cars on the correct side of the road again, in being able to read ads and order food without a hitch. There's no need to think about conversion rates- the Canadian dollar is pretty much par with USD, and the change even comes in dimes and nickels and quarters.

It's _too_ easy- it makes him miss using a debit card, which was easier to forget among penny-pinching backpackers playing with the local currency. And he spots phones everywhere- Katherine had started texting the minute the plane touched down, and he wonders when he'll finally be able to contact Caroline.

He figures he'll probably have to push to hold Katherine to the bargain. But now is not the time- he's got to take care of a rather pressing need first.

Katherine slides her phone back into her pocket and then turns to him. "We've still got a ways to go. Might as well use some of that cash- won't need it again until we're heading back to Mystic Falls. Not exactly fine cuisine, but there's a Tim's- I want a coffee, a Tuscan Chicken Panini and Timbits for the road."

He nods and glances around before lowering his voice. "Oookay, so I'm guessing we're headed to the middle of nowhere. Can we pick up some blood first? We've been in transit for almost a day."

She looks at the people bustling around them at Arrivals and smiles condescendingly.

"Lots of tasty looking choices. Pick one and find a private spot- the washroom stalls are usually nice and wide at airports. And it's convenient that it's cold enough here for people to wear scarves, don't you think?"

He sighs. He'd figured this would come up ever since that thing on the plane. "I mean a hospital. A blood bank."

She smiles brightly for passersby and keeps her threatening tone low. "You stubborn little priss. Why don't you just accept what you are? You think I was searching for blood banks in the 19th century? The 16th? You're on the run and you're a predator, twice over. _Act like it_."

He frowns, but he's not going to let her rile him up. "I'm not trying to judge. I get it- you were turned when there were no other options. But I wasn't- and I know I don't have to hurt anybody to feed."

"Oh really? So how exactly did you rationalize stealing blood from hospitals in South-east Asia? Patients with malaria and dengue fever just had to suck it up when you drank the blood meant for them?"

"I healed who I could in exchange for a few bags."

"So the hospital administration approved this little exchange? Made sure nobody got turned inadvertently after you left?"

"No- I-" He wishes she would stop the bitchy know-it-all thing. She'd positively delighted in needling him every time they talked, so he'd gratefully shut her out with his headphones on the plane. Easy enough to ignore her since seats are partitioned off in first class. But halfway through the night he'd smelled blood and looked over to see the flight attendant standing unnaturally still in the aisle, obediently extending an arm into her alcove. She'd turned and offered the same open wound on her arm to him ("Would you like a drink, sir?), and he'd seen the annoyance on Katherine's face when he'd refused. "I just did what I thought was fair, okay?"

"You _rationalized_ stealing what was rightfully theirs."

"They don't need the blood if they don't have malaria anymore."

She purses her lips and raises her eyebrows reflectively in acknowledgement. But her contempt is obvious. "Still inconvenient. Inefficient. It's _really_ a lucky thing your little sweetheart is keeping Klaus occupied- if he was hunting you like he _hounded_ me, you'd already be dead."

He sighs, hating how she knows exactly which buttons to push. He knows the price this "head start" comes at; worries constantly about the danger to Caroline- and now he keeps wondering if he's squandered it somehow. So many what-ifs have popped into his head ever since Katherine showed up with her pointed questions and acid comments.

"Look, I know we don't agree on this. But if you want my cooperation, I'm going to ask you to respect this. Or I'm getting a bus to the closest hospital and meeting up with you when I'm done."

Ultimatums don't faze her. "You may be a hybrid, but I've got five hundred years on you. What makes you think I won't break your neck and shove you in the trunk?"

He spreads his hands, looking her square in the eye. "You could have done that in Vietnam. You didn't. Is a detour really going to be that big a deal?"

She glares for another couple seconds before she exhales and looks away. "You can have a bloodbag or two when we arrive. A couple of our witches "came down with" sickle cell anemia for the closest hospital so we wouldn't have to feed directly off anybody. Vampires are an abomination of nature, etcetera etcetera."

So she was just pulling his strings. Again. But she wasn't lying- maybe Caroline was wrong about that. "My friends and family have been terrorized and murdered by vampires. I didn't choose this- I'm not going to stop acting like myself."

She looks discomfited for a moment before her expression goes cold. "It's easier just to let go."

He scoffs, smiling with self-deprecation. "Probably wouldn't be here if I did what was easiest."

That makes her roll her eyes and smile- that was exactly why this was going to work. "Just be a good boy and get the food? I'll meet you outside with the car."

* * *

He'd expected Canada to be glaciers and mountains and forests, like the postcards he's seen. And there's a thick layer of snow on everything but it smells like spring and mulch, and maybe it's the vampire thing or maybe he just doesn't get the Celcius scale still, but it doesn't feel that cold even though the display says it's minus four. Cloudless and brilliantly blue, the sky feels oddly huge yawning above, stretching horizon to horizon without a break.

He's been to a bunch of countries now but never anywhere this… empty. Everything is muffled, and while he spots the occasional set of tracks and the highway has enough high speed traffic that Katherine can't hog the road with the sedan, he has the feeling that "middle of nowhere" was probably a pretty accurate guess.

It's a huge change of pace from the last couple months. He can't help but notice the heated seats and LCD navigation screen; the suspension keeping the ride smooth despite the cracks in the highway; even how quiet the engine is. All the creature comforts after weeks of squeezing into smelly, taped seats and holding on with everybody else crammed in for the teeth jarring ride.

He's not sure which he likes better.

They both eat in silence for the first part of the journey- food always helps quell the cravings and the hot paninis are pretty good. Cheese was one of those little things he'd missed while travelling. But once he's left with only his coffee to finish, he figures it's time to get some answers.

"So when am I going to get the chance to talk to Caroline?"

She retorts instantly. "You said contact, not talk."

"…Fine. When do I get to _contact_ her?"

"When we're satisfied with your progress."

He frowns suspiciously. "…Progress?"

She neatly polishes off a donut hole before answering. "Klaus devoted a thousand years and the lives of countless minions to breaking his curse. He hunted me for daring to run for literally _hundreds of years, _tortured me after I delivered everything he needed five hundred years later… and yet how many times has he actually turned since breaking the curse?"

She's avoiding answering his question, but there's something dead earnest about the way she's talking.

"He never mentioned any- once, I guess?"

"Exactly." She doesn't bother to hide her bitterness.

He shrugs. "I get not wanting to turn- it hurts like a bitch. Plus he told us he just wanted to make more hybrids."

"Turning gives a hybrid considerable advantage over even the oldest vampires."

"But… Klaus doesn't need an advantage. He's an Original."

"Klaus has always wanted _every_ advantage, not merely most of them. It was so _odd_ that he never brought that particular toy out to play again, even to lord over his overpowered siblings. And I'm always _very interested_ whenever Klaus _avoids_ anything. You see, according to my sources, _you've_ turned over a hundred times."

He shifts uncomfortably before he answers- he could have sworn he'd only told Caroline that.

"…Not because I _like_ being a wolf or anything- I had to turn to break the sire bond. …Look, I don't get where you're going with this. Nothing can kill an Original but the White Oak Stake anyway. Not even werewolves."

She nods, but keeps going. "Two Originals have died now, taking their bloodlines with them within an hour. And yet nothing happens to the bloodlines when they die by dagger. Or to our bloodline for almost a day despite a White Oak stake."

Tyler sighs- he'd been instrumental in that one. "We did the bodyswitch spell to preserve the bloodline. I let him take over my body so we could survive."

She tilts her head and smirks at him. "You really think the _bloodline_ is tied to his _soul_ rather than his _body_?"

"He told Bonnie…" He stops, clenching his fists. "…It's not?"

"Klaus was bargaining for _his_ preservation. I bet he intended to jump into somebody else –even someone _human_—despite having your hybrid body at his disposal."

She gives him a smug look when he stares at her in horrified confirmation.

"Have you heard of The Other Side? Quite a few supernatural _souls _sharing this space with us. It was pure luck that Klaus's _body_ didn't burn to ash- apparently Damon was an _idiot_ and _restrained_ Rebekah even though our lives were on the line. Our bodies have been linked to our original sire's by blood. They have super strength and speed- so do we. They don't age or sustain damage- ditto. They burn to a crisp- _we all fall down_. But there's an interesting loophole that exists for Klaus _because_ he's a hybrid."

She takes a deep breath and eyes him before focusing back on the road. "Nothing happened to the bloodline the two days he was a wolf either, _even though his body morphed into something else entirely. _As if it was excluded from the equation entirely."

They're both quiet as she lets what she said sink in. And it only takes him a minute before he scoffs, incredulous. "…That's the plan? You want me to kill Klaus- _after he's turned?"_

She's matter of fact. "After you've _both_ turned- in this state you don't even stand a chance against _me_. You've been competing over a female and fighting for Alpha status. According to my sources, those circumstances can lead to fights to the death during full moons."

He's still reeling, but that really makes him double take. "That's- how do you even know any of this? Did your witches tell you? Did Mason? He shouldn't have."

She keeps her eyes deliberately on the road, and for the first time he can sense that she's hiding something.

"…It doesn't matter where the information comes from if it's accurate. Half the reason we're out here is to give you better odds of ripping his throat out. Believe that."

He leans back and stares at her, skeptical. "What makes you think I can even do it? This is _Klaus_."

"You're wolf first- Klaus is the opposite. _You've _turned over a hundred times and he's done it a grand total of _twice_. You really think you don't have a chance?"

"I just- I've never been able to control myself after turning. Not fully. Most of the time I'm trying to turn back as fast as I can. If I'm going to be your one-man army, we can't bet on my- instincts or whatever."

She raises a brow and sighs.

"Like I said. Progress first. Anyway, we're here."

She turns off the highway onto a gravel road for a couple minutes until they get to a sprawling farmhouse. She parks in the garage off to the side, and lets him handle the luggage again, locking the car via remote before they trudge through the snow to the door. A young black woman opens it, grinning before stepping back and waving Katherine in.

"This him?"

"Do I ever _not_ get what I want?"

She smells friendly and curious and she extends a hand to Tyler, although he notices that she doesn't step outside. "Hi, I'm Lucy. One of the witches Katherine keeps dragging into her schemes."

He glances at her hand before slowly stretching out his to shake. There's a test here of some kind. And he can't place it, but he can smell a hint of something familiar in the house.

"Hi-Tyler. I guess I'm the hybrid part of the plan."

She inhales when their fingers touch before her smile widens and she shakes her head.

"I don't know how you do it, girl. Tyler-_you_ are really not supposed to exist. How did she even find you?"

Katherine smirks. "You're talking about _me. _Speaking of which- has my other… friend… arrived?"

"Yeah- got here yesterday. She's in the kitchen-"

But Katherine is already turning to look at the woman who's coming down the hallway, and his jaw drops.

So that's why he didn't get invited in. Smart, really- he can feel the change in his eyes and teeth as his emotions suddenly surge.

"Hayley?!"

* * *

_**A/N: Blood transfusions (and blood banks) became more common as a result of World War I. Before blood groups were discovered in 1901 they were a rare and risky procedure. Nowadays 85 million units of blood are transfused every year all over the world.**_

**_I've been racking my brain and the canon and I'm pretty sure my take on the bloodline plot device is sound, but PLEASE PM OR COMMENT if I've missed something. Sorry for the long delay in publishing this chapter- spring break and sick kids make for very little creative time and I'm a miserable perfectionist, especially as we get to the plotty bits._**


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